


Starting Even

by Blink_Blue



Series: Things You Said [11]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Established Relationship, Guilt, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6612241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things you said after it was over.</p>
<p>2x15 coda. The guilty smut scene that happens after the episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting Even

“Well…” Oliver hesitates. He hates how choked up his voice sounds all of a sudden. But the prospect of sex at the moment is definitely the last thing on his mind.

And then Connor drops the towel.

Oliver’s eyes immediately fall. He feels the corners of his lips twitching, his heart rate accelerates, and he continues to grip the edge of the counter tightly with his hands. He begins to shake his head. “That’s not fair, you got a head start.”

Connor grins and looks down at himself. He’s currently hanging at about half mast, looking beautiful and naked, a perfect male specimen still dripping wet from the shower, and utterly unashamed of it. He starts stepping closer, and Oliver suddenly wishes he wasn’t backed against the counter.

“Well, take off your shorts, and I’ll make sure we start even.”

Connor kisses him deeply. He presses their lips together, pulls away just enough to have the other man leaning forward, before coming back. His tongue presses gently into Oliver’s mouth, tasting him. The same talented tongue that Oliver knows in moments will be wrapped around his cock.

If only he could enjoy it. His heart pounds quickly in his chest. But only partially due to Connor’s hand down his shorts, slowly stroking him the way he knows makes him weak in the knees. The other reason is the storm cloud that is currently brewing over their relationship. He’s just betrayed his partner, the man he claims to love with his whole heart. The guilt tugs at him, and it feels like his chest is in a chokehold.

It kind of pulls his attention away from the hand around his cock. He’s barely hard, but if Connor is taking offense to it, he’s not saying anything. Instead, he drops to his knees, pulls Oliver’s shorts down, and takes him into his mouth. The warm, wet heat that envelops him has him quickly gasping, and his fingers clench the counter top even tighter. But he stubbornly keeps his hands on there, refusing to lay them on the other man. It just feels wrong. Well, the tongue swirling against his cock feels amazing, and his body responds quickly to it. But it all feels so wrong.

Every time he tries not to think about what he did, the guilt swallows him back in, and he hears his own words in his head.

_“This is uh… Connor Walsh. Yeah, I’m calling because I just received my acceptance email… It is very, very exciting… But I’m actually calling to say that I won’t be attending.”_

He takes a few shaky breaths, closes his eyes, and tells himself not to think about it. What’s done is done, and they should both be putting Stanford behind them. Connor will never find out. He’ll think he was simply rejected. No surprise there, even Connor himself had doubts about his prospects. And now, they won’t have to move three thousand miles across the country. Problem solved.

His hand shakily moves to rest on top of Connor’s head. His breath comes out in quick gasps as Connor takes him deep into this throat, until his lips are nearly pressed to his pelvis. But while he’d usually grip his hair tightly in fistfuls, guiding his speed and pace, telling him just how he likes it. This time his hand just sits there, too ashamed to move. But too needy to be apart.

Connor finally pulls back, drops him from his lips with a _plop._ And he stares up at him with beautiful, wide, lustful eyes, and a smirk on his red, swollen lips. “Ready to bring this into the bedroom?”

Oliver only hesitates for a second.

“I mean, we could do it on the counter if you really want,” Connor says with a grin.

Oliver finally shakes his head. “Bedroom,” he says softly.

Connor jumps to his feet, and tugs on the other man’s arm, dragging them both in the direction of the other room. On the way there, he pulls Oliver’s shirt over his head and discards it on the floor, next to his own abandoned towel.

Connor spins him around and pushes him back onto the bed, where he lands on soft sheets. And he climbs on top of him. His wet hair drips down onto Oliver’s face. He runs a hand messily through it, pulling the strands back and out of his face. He grinds down softly on Oliver’s lap. His left hand wraps around Oliver’s cock, stroking it softly, and his right hand wraps around his own.

“See? Starting even,” he says breathily.

Oliver’s too preoccupied staring up at him to respond. Even after all this time, he’s still not accustomed to the idea that such a gorgeous, amazing man is in love with him, and stays with him, lives with him, _wants_ him. Maybe it’s his low self esteem that Connor keeps bringing up. Maybe it’s the fear that one day Connor will wake up and realize that he can do so much better. Maybe it’s the idea of a new city, full of new people, on a different coast. Someone says California, and he immediately pictures young, hot attractive blond men with perfect beach hair blowing in the wind. How can he possibly compete with all of that?

Staying in Philadelphia, a city he’s lived in his whole life, it’s safe and comfortable, and it makes holding on to Connor all the more easier. It was a spur of the moment decision, and normally he’d never even consider lying, _betraying_ the man he loves. But things are different now. He’s spent his whole life putting himself second, behind bosses, friends, partners… and he told himself he wouldn’t do that anymore. Now he knows what he wants, and he quickly decided that he was going to take it.

“Ollie?” Connor’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “You have a preference?” He asks in a low voice as he stares down at him through lidded eyes. 

Oliver slowly shakes his head.

Connor grins and reaches over to the bedside table to grab the bottle of lube that’s always kept handy. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he says with a grin as he rips open a condom and slides it over Oliver’s cock.

“Remember, first one to finish wins,” Connor says breathily, as he messily pours lube over his fingers.

Oliver swallows hard as he watches Connor prepare himself. He can’t quite see from his angle but he imagines Connor’s pressing his fingers inside himself. From the way his head falls back, and his lips fall open, and soft little gasps escape from his throat, it quickly sends the blood returning to his nether regions.

“You know that’s not how arguments are solved, right?” He asks softly.

_Going behind someone’s back and getting rid of evidence isn’t exactly a good way either._

Connor lets out a soft laugh as he positions himself–“It’s more fun this way,”–and slowly slides down on Oliver’s cock until he’s completely buried inside.

They gasp and moan in unison. Oliver bites his lip to keep quiet, while Connor unabashedly does no such thing. It doesn’t take him long to adjust and he quickly starts grinding his hips, slowly at first, then quicker and quicker. He lifts them up, then falls back down, his face scrunched up in pure, blissful pleasure. 

Oliver moans softly under his breath. While his cock is certainly enjoying itself, his mind is distracted, and his heart isn’t quite in it. The guilt continues to plague him as he watches Connor riding him quickly to his own orgasm. What makes it worse though, is not the lies, or that he cost him what could have been a life changing opportunity. The worst part is that he doesn’t feel regret. Guilt sure, but no regret. There’s no part of him that wishes he hadn’t made that phone call, or hadn’t deleted that email. It’s selfish of him, purely selfish, and it’s about time he started living for himself, for once in his life.

He can tell Connor is close. His chest heaves, his muscles glisten with the sweat of his effort, and his moans fill the room. Oliver’s hands, lying steady and still on the sheets, now tremble against Connor’s skin. They rest on his hips, feeling every movement of his body, and slowly slide upwards to his waist. He tugs him closer. Connor’s eyes flutter open, a soft smile on his lips, and he leans over to press their lips together in a kiss.

Blindly, Oliver’s hand searches between their bodies, and finally wraps around Connor’s cock. He squeezes him in his hand, and starts stroking him, reveling in the sounds that Connor makes against him. Connor trembles and shakes. It doesn’t take much longer–a few more strokes and a twist of his hand–and Connor’s cumming. He clenches and shakes. And his gasps and moans devolve into breathless little whimpers, until he finally settles still in Oliver’s arms, a warm sticky mess between them.

“I win,” he murmurs softly into Oliver’s neck. 

Oliver makes a wry smile. He won the second he saw Connor’s email while the other man was in the shower.

“You weren’t even trying,” Connor says as he lifts his head, still a bit out of breath. “You okay?”

Oliver nods, a soft smile on his lips as he watches the other man. Now, as he watches Connor catch his breath, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, he understands why he made the split second decision that could have changed the course of their lives. Here they lie, together and naked, held in each other’s arms, where they belong. He can’t risk that changing. If he stood his ground, and insisted on staying in Philadelphia, there’s always the chance that he couldn’t convince Connor to stay. If Connor decided to go without him… Or worse, if he did manage to convince him to stay, would Connor resent him for it for the rest of their lives? What they have is so precious to him, and Connor is the love of his life. He simply did what he needed to do, to keep them both happy. That’s all.

They continue to gaze into each other’s eyes, and Connor scrutinizes him carefully, until he finally decides nothing’s the matter.

“Well, you can keep fucking me if you want,” Connor says as he straightens. And he gives a few experimental bounces of his hips. But he suddenly gasps loudly, his eyes roll back, and he quickly stills again. “I’m pretty sensitive right now,” he murmurs. 

Oliver bites his lip as he watches him, his cock is still fairly hard. “Can I cum in your mouth?”

Connor smirks at him. He leans over, presses a gentle kiss on Oliver’s lips, and slowly slides off his cock. He shimmies down his torso as Oliver simultaneously pulls himself up, resting his head on a pillow against the headboard so he has a decent view. And he watches, as Connor pulls off the condom and takes him into his mouth. He moans softly, and his breaths become heavier as he watches Connor’s tongue swipe against the underside of his cock. It swirls around the head, and Oliver can feel saliva dribble down his balls, pulled tight against his body, a sign that he’s close, moments before Connor takes him deep into his throat.

Reflexively, Oliver’s hand reaches up to grip Connor’s hair. He tugs gently at first, then harder as he directs him. Connor hums softly, and the vibrations go directly to his cock, already enveloped in the most achingly wonderful heat of Connor’s mouth.

“I’m close,” he says softly, warning him. “I’m close… Shit–ahh, Connor–I’m cumming!” He gasps and moans loudly as he empties himself down Connor’s throat. The other man swallows every drop, and finally releases him with his tongue fluttering gently along his length. Oliver’s head had fallen back against the headboard, and he slowly moves until he’s lying flat on the bed again, too exhausted to do anything else but lie there.

Connor crawls over him. He presses gentle kisses to his cheek and neck, and soft nuzzles that have Oliver laughing quietly.

“What’s going on with you?” Connor asks as he drops onto the bed next to him. “You’ve been acting weird. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Oliver takes a long, shaky breath, urging his heart rate to return to normal. He turns to look at the other man, and shakes his head. “Just tired I guess. We’ve had a long day, stressful…”

“You didn’t seem too stressed to me,” Connor states. “If anything, you seemed a bit too excited about that line of work.”

Oliver shrugs. “I like it.”

Connor shakes his head and turns away, clearly wanting to avoid this conversation–like he always does. “Whatever. You know we’re moving, right? If I get accepted?” He sounds like he’s only half joking. And he starts to roll out of the bed, about to swing his legs over the edge when Oliver reaches an arm up and quickly snatches him back. Connor falls back with a yelp, right into Oliver’s waiting arms.

He holds him tight. And when he doesn’t let go, Connor turns his head back to look at him strangely. Oliver brushes it off by pressing a kiss to his lips. Connor softly breaks into a smile when they part. He turns his head back and lets it fall onto the pillow, finally relaxing.

“Fine, we can cuddle. But only for a few minutes, I’ve got to pee.”

Oliver grins into the other man’s hair. He’ll take every minute the other man is willing to offer him.

“Connor?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Ollie.”

Oliver bites his lip, thinking over in his head what he really wants to say. “Why do you want to transfer so badly?” He finally asks softly.

Immediately, he feels Connor tense in his arms.

“I just–I don’t like it here,” he says shortly.

“It’s just a really big move…”

“I know!” Connor says quickly. “I know it’s big. And I know it’s asking a lot, but we’ll be–”

“You’re already a third of the way to your degree,” he tries to reason. “Aren’t you afraid some credits won’t transfer–”

“I don’t care about the credits, Ollie!”

“But wouldn’t it be easier to just stick it out here for two more years? I mean… you already have an internship–”

“Which I hate, and I can’t get out of–”

“What do you mean you can’t get out of?” Oliver interrupts, confused.

Connor shakes his head and turns away again. “Look, I don’t want this to turn into some big fight. I just–” He breaks off and sighs. “Let’s just wait to hear back from Stanford. I probably won’t get accepted anyway, and then there’s no point to this argument.”

“Okay,” Oliver says softly, knowing entirely well that Connor’s not going to hear from Stanford–a second time. “I love you,” he says again, after a moment.

“I love you too, ya big softie. Now let me up,” Connor says, patting him on the arm. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Oliver grins softly and releases his grip on him. He lets him go, but his hand continues to linger on the other man’s arm until he’s gone. And his eyes continue to follow him into the bathroom until the door closes behind him with a click.

**Author's Note:**

> [x](http://winters-blue-children.tumblr.com)


End file.
